The Woods (Hattie Howard Poems)
I love the woods when the magic hand Of Spring, as if sweeping the keys Of a wornout instrument, touches the earth; When ...
I love the woods when the magic hand Of Spring, as if sweeping the keys Of a wornout instrument, touches the earth; When ...
The turntable hacked up a melancholy bluesThe air was heavy with dust and odorsSeveral zazous danced while holding to their ...
As a child I played in the same frosty fields barefoot as my no lesser loved classmates, whom we challenged ...
SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Not to thee, but thanks to Nature, Thou art acting but thyself. ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
Did you know that Evian spelled backwards is naive? I myself was unaware of this fact until last Tuesday night ...
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